Thy all-destructive might, where is it? Where’s thy sting?
If thou wilt not consume, what quality hast thou?
Or has my fortune veered; and with it, thy dread glow?
Thou sparest not thy worshippers, the Magian race.
Whence comes it; these who spurn thee, Christians, meet with grace?
Thou never wast, O fire, for patience noted here.
Why burn’st thou not? What is there? Hast thou lost thy power?
Is this eye-binding?[131] Is it, rather, reason’s blind?
How is’t thy flames consume not all their hated kind? 95
Bewitched thee have they? Or is’t magic natural?
Or is’t my fortune wills that thou turn prodigal?”
To him the fire: “O miscreant! I’m still the same.
Come in and try, thou, how thou’lt find my smallest flame.
My nature, as my substance, has not suffered change.
Outside my nature’s limit I’ve no power to range.
At door of Turkman’s tent the savage household dogs
Do wag their tails before a guest, and crouch like logs.
But should a stranger pass by, near the guarded tent,
Him then those dogs assail, with lion-like intent. 100
Less than a dog I’m not, in service to my Lord.
Than Turkman less, there’s none, in rights, upon earth’s sward.”
When fire thy body injures, and inflicts some harm;
Remember, its consuming power can also warm.
And when a fire thus serves thee, acts some needful part,
Reflect! Those qualities thou seest did God impart.
Art injured, ’haps? Fall down; entreat the Lord with prayer.
The hurtful power was given by Him in gracious care.
Should He so will, each injury a blessing is.
Chained captives find their freedom by a word of His. 105
Fire, air, earth, water, all are servants of their God.
I, thou, them lifeless deem. He knows they live and plod.
In presence of the great Creator fire must still
Its service do; and, lover-like, work out His will.
Thou strikest flint on steel; fire instantly leaps forth.
’Tis by commandment of the Lord it thus takes birth.
Strike not together, thou, the flint and steel of lust.
For, male and female like, they’ll generate; they must.
The flint and steel are means. Far higher raise thy look.
With reason thou’rt endowed. Go; read the holy book. 110
One means comes from another means; and cause from cause.
Without a means or cause, no means from self e’er rose.
The means by which all prophets’ miracles are wrought,
Of higher order are than earthly means; no doubt.
Man’s mind can compass how these latter act, and when;
The former hidden are from all but prophet’s ken.
These former ’tis that give the latter power to act;
And rarely, that, their normal action, counteract.
A means a rope is, by the help of which we reach;
And in this worldly pit by means each reaches each. 115
Around its coiling cylinder the well-rope’s wound.
To shut our eyes to this would blind indeed be found.
The ropes by means of which results are seen to steer,
In this our world, deem not they’re moved by star or sphere;
Lest thou become confused and giddy like a wheel;—
Take fire, consume, like tinder, sparks of shame to feel.
The air becomes a fire at times by God’s decree.
Both air and fire run wild with joy, His means to be.
The streams of mercy, the consuming fires of wrath,
Thou’lt see, my son, are both from God. Look well, forsooth. 120
Were not the wind aware of God’s almighty power,
How had it ever blown the blast of ‘Ād’s[132] last hour?
Around his Muslims Hūd a saving circle drew.
The wind within that mystic circuit softly blew.
While all that were beyond were dashed to pieces soon.
Like chaff before the breeze, their limbs around were strewn.
Shaybān the shepherd, too, a circle round his fold
Was used to draw; whate’er the season, hot or cold;
On Fridays, when, at midday’s sacred hour of praise,
He to a congregation hied; lest wolf should seize. 125
No wolf was ever known to break the holy spell;
Nor sheep to stray beyond; each knew the limit well.
To wind, to wolf, to sheep, and lusts of every one,
The circle traced by saint a barrier was, like stone.
To Gnostic, so likewise, the harmless gale of death
Blows mild and gentle, summer-breezes-like on heath.
And fire was fangless; could not Abraham offend.
How should it hurt him? Was he not God’s “Chosen Friend”?
The pious man burns not in fire of fleshly lust.
But sinners still consumed are upon earth’s crust. 130
The Red Sea waves, all raging by divine command,
The host of Israel knew; but Pharaoh’s armies drown’d.
The earth, again, wide gaping at Jehovah’s word,
Did Korah and his wealth devour; but Moses spared.[133]
In Jesu’s hand, warmed with his breath, the fictile clay
As living birds arose, spread wing, and flew away.[134]
Thy lauds and praises, too, breath from thy frame account.
Sincerity them vivifies; to heaven they mount.
The rock of Sion danced at sight of Moses’ God[135]
As perfect cenobite; its faults were all removed. 135
What wonder if a hill should dance and saint become?
Was not great Moses’ self a clod of clay and loam?
The Jewish king now manifested great surprise.
These things, he said, were mockeries, mere patent lies.
His councillors conjured him more sedate to be;
And not to push his hardihood to rash degree.
These councillors he fettered, into prison cast;
Injustice to injustice adding, first and last.
A shout was heard from heaven when matters reached that point:
“Jew dog! Prepare for vengeance from on high! Aroynt!” 140
The fire then blazed amain; its flames lapped all around.
It slew and burnt the mob of Jews from off the ground.
Their origin was hell, from whence their souls had come;
Their goal was also hell; to it they now went home.
The Jewish race is hellish; many proofs are shown.
Parts are they of a whole accursed; as is well known.
Their nature hellish; all their joy God’s saints to burn.
Their fire recoiled upon themselves. ’Twas justice’ turn.
For them, who were, by nature, children born of wrath,
The lowest depths of hell were fittest cells, forsooth. 145
A mother ever yearneth after her own child;
A dam is ever followed by her offspring wild.
Though true that water may enclosed be in a tank,
The air will it absorb. ’Twas thence to earth it sank.
Air sets it free; direct, restores it to its source,
By little and by little. None perceive its course.
So, too, our breath, in manner like, steals soul away,
By little and by little, from this house of clay,
In words of praise, ascending to God’s holy throne,
From us to where He reigns;--as known to Him alone. 150
Our breathings rise on wings of true sincerity,
The offerings of our hearts to all eternity.
We then receive rewards for those poor words of praise,
In tenfold showers of mercy from th’ Ancient of Days.
And we are still constrained to utter songs of thanks,
That man should so be raised above th’ angelic ranks.
This rising and descending alternates for aye.
The Lord forbid that I should fail therein one day!
We’re drawn, we are attracted, so to love the Lord;
As we were first instructed, firm to trust His word. 155
Each man will turn his eyes in hope towards the place,
Where he has tasted joy some former day of grace.
The pleasures of each kind are most with their own kin;
As part must share with whole its qualities, its sin.
Things needs must be assigned unto a common class,
If aught they have in common; two will form a race.
Thus bread and water are not human at the first;
But human they become, through hunger and through thirst.
In form they have no tie with us of human kind;
But through a special link they kindred with us find. 160
If pleasure, then, we find in what’s not of our race,
Be sure there’s some connection through which this takes place.
If that connection but resemblance be in shape,
It will not last; it’s for a time; it must escape.
’Tis true that birds find pleasure in a whistle’s note;
But then they fancy ’tis their mate’s, on whom they dote.
And if a thirsty man take pleasure in his wine,
He tastes the lees, and loathes. To water he’ll incline.
A pauper may amused be with counterfeited coin;
But take this to the mint; defaced ’twill be, in fine. 165
Then be not thou misled with gilded counterfeit;
Delusion will thee plunge headlong into hell’s pit.
V.
The Lion and the Beasts.
Kalīl’ and Dimna’s book relates a charming tale,[136]
From which males may a moral draw;--and eke, female.
Within a shelter’d vale, four-footed game in droves,
Were kept in tremor by a lion from its groves.
So frequently had he borne victims off from thence,
The vale a prison had become in every sense.
A consultation held, they fair proposals state,
To satisfy the lion’s hunger by a rate;
But on condition that he rapine lay aside,
And not prolong disquiet in that valley wide. 5
The lion gave consent, if they’d perform their part;
Remarking: “I’ve a victim been to wily art.
Man persecutes me with his deadly stratagems;
The snake and scorpion sting me;--rancour’s true emblems.
But worse than any man, in venom and in spleen,
The fleshly lust within me traitor’s always been.
But I’ve grown wary. Has not Ahmed said: ‘Rely!
Believers are not twice caught by the selfsame lie?’”[137]
Their answer was: “O most sagacious, knowing guide,
Thy caution pray dismiss; decree of God abide. 10
Suspicion, caution, ever is corroding ill.
Put trust in Providence; and God thy maw will fill.
Strive not with Providence, however strong thou be;
Lest Providence should take offence, and war with thee.”
He answered them: “Sure! Sure! Trust Providence we must.
His prophets in the Lord have always placed their trust.
To trust in God, and yet put forth our utmost skill,
The surest method is, to work His holy will.
The Prophet plainly said to his disciple train:
‘Put trust in God, and bind thy camel’s shank amain.’[138] 15
Remember the old saw: ‘The friend of God must work.’[139]
Through trust in God, neglect not ways and means, O clerk.”
Abashed they were not; answer thus they promptly made:
“To gain aught from the poor is fraud; a trick of trade.
There is no gain so good as trust placed in the Lord.
What more praiseworthy than to build upon His word?
How many flee _this_ danger, falling into _that_!
From fryingpan leaps one, to light in fire right pat.[140]
Man plans a stratagem; in it is caught himself.
That which he took for health, he finds is death itself. 20
He locks his door when treason’s lurking in his house.
So Pharaoh deemed he’d danger shun ere it should rouse.
How many thousand infants did he doom to death;
While Moses, whom he feared, his own roof was beneath.
Our eyes afflicted are with various kinds of ills.
Then go and make them blind, by seeing God ’tis wills.
God’s sight of providence is keener than men’s eyes.
By seeing with His sight, thou’lt find all thou wilt prize.
An infant, that can neither grasp nor walk as yet,
Takes seat upon his father’s neck, and runs. Sweet pet. 25
Some seasons past, he scarcely gains some strength of limb;
When sorrow fastens on him;--sharp, and ghastly grim.
The hearts of men, before they gain or power or wealth,
Decline away from duty, pleasures seek by stealth.
And since by God’s decree from paradise they’re rent,
They prisoners become to rage, lust, discontent.
We are the household of that Householder, whose word
Thus spake: ‘Creation’s all as children of the Lord.’[141]
He that doth send the fattening rain upon the earth,
In mercy, too, can feed His creatures from their birth.” 30
The lion thus replied: “’Tis true. But still, the Lord
A ladder sets before our feet to be explor’d.
Step after step we have to mount unto the roof.
Th’ idea of compulsion’s quite devoid of proof.
Two feet thou hast. Then why thyself hold to be lame?
Two hands also. Why maimed account thyself in name?
Whene’er a master puts a spade in hand of slave,
He has no need to speak; the act expression gave.
Our hands just so are given; spades they are to us.
Think out this problem well; it needs not any fuss. 35
When thou hast laid this unction to thy soul amain,
In duty’s path to lay down life thou’lt count as gain.
Those symbols indices are, whence are secrets known.
Responsibility’s from thee withdrawn; work shown.
Thou’rt surely burdened. Borne also most truly art.
Recipient; hence accepted;--fully on His part.
Recipient be of God’s command; content thou’lt be.
Seek unto Him; and to Him joined thyself thou’lt see.
To strive to give thanks power provides this to perform.
Allege compulsion. Gratitude’s ground thou’lt deform. 40
Thanks for thy powers the power of thanks tenfold expands.
Take favour for compulsion. Power will leave thy hands.
Compulsion dost affirm? That’s sleeping by the way.
Go not to sleep until thou’st fairly won the day.
Sleep not, Compulsionist! Thou man, with folly rife!
Until thou reach the goal, the fruitful Tree of Life.
The cool breeze there will rustle through its leaves profuse,
Each moment scattering fruits for food and future use.
Compulsion’s creed is sleep among the highwaymen;
Unseasonable bird is mercilessly slain.[142] 45
If thou at God’s signs carp and peck, so finding fault,
Though man thou count thyself, ’tis womanlike assault.
The little sense thou hadst has really taken flight;
A head that has no brains is tail turn’d round to sight.
Ungrateful men are ever cursed of God on earth;
And after death are flung to hell-fire’s vengeful hearth.
If thou repose thy trust in God’s almighty pow’r,
Sow first thy seed; and then, await the harvest hour.”
The beasts a clamour raised; they would not be repressed:
“They who on means depend, are urged by greed confessed. 50
The millions upon millions, man and womankind,
Are pinched by want; they suffer need; they food scarce find.
By millions and by millions, since creation’s day,—
Insatiate dragons,--they their gaping jaws display.
A crowd of would-be wise men stratagems invent,
Enough to upset mountains, could they give them vent.
So God himself described in His most holy book
Their arts: ‘By which they’d tear away the hills.’[143] Just look.
Except the lot decreed by Providence of yore,
By hunting or by toiling none can swell his store. 55
Device of man, his plans, shall all be brought to naught.
God’s dispensations sole will stand, with wisdom fraught.
Strive not then, man of sense; except good name to leave.
Exertion’s a delusion. Out! Thou sottish knave!”
A simpleton one morning rushing came in haste,
Where Solomon his court of justice then had placed.
His cheeks were blanched, his lips were blue; effects of fright.
Said Solomon to him: “What ails thee? Say aright.”
Him answer’d that poor wretch: “The angel, Lord, of death,[144]
Upon me fixed, just now, a look that stopped my breath.” 60
Said Solomon: “What wilt thou I should do for thee?”
He answered: “That the wind may now commanded be[145]
To carry me away forthwith to Hindūstān.
Perchance by fleeing thither, save my life I can.”
See how mankind do shun the garb of poverty.
Hence they’re a prey to greed and dire necessity.
This fear of poverty is like that man’s dismay,
Its Hindūstān, remark, is greed and grasping’s sway.
So Solomon the wind commanded, him, forthwith,
To bear to Hindūstān; and land him near some frith. 65
Another day as Solomon his court did hold,
Death’s angel came; the king to him the matter told:
“Thy wrathful look, the other day, upon that man,
Has driven him his home to quit for Hindūstān.
Didst thou in wrath survey the pious man that way,
That he might wander forth a waif, like sheep astray?
Or was thy look’s intent, so dreadful to behold,
His soul to separate from its corporeal fold?”
To him replied the angel: “King of sprites and men!
His fancy him misled; he’ll ne’er do so again. 70
’Twas not in anger then that I did look on him;
’Twas wonder him to see here, looking hale and prim.
For God had me commanded: ‘Go this very day,
And take his soul in Hindūstān, his debt to pay.’
In wonder, then, I said within myself: ‘Had he
A hundred wings, in Hindūstān he could not be.’
But going, still, by God’s command, to Hindūstān,
Him there I found, and took his soul with my own hand.”
So thou, good reader, understand, the things of earth
’Tis God ordains. Reflect. ’Twas written ere his birth. 75
From whom to flee? From self? Oh! That’s absurd!
From whom to steal? From God? Worse, worse! No word!
The lion now remarked: “The words you speak are true.
But just consider how the prophets, saints, ensue.
What they have wrought hath God blessed, made to prosper still;
Their joys and griefs, their sufferings, pains, were by His will.
Their stratagems dictated by their God were, all.[146]
‘Who comes of gentle blood, will gentle words let fall.’[147]
Their traps have taken angels with the baits they placed.
Their seeming slips and faults were all by wisdom traced. 80
Exert thyself, O man; put shoulder to the wheel,
The prophets and the saints to imitate in zeal.
Exertion’s not a struggle against Providence.
’Twas Providence enjoined it,--made it our defence.
Blasphemer may I be, if ever single man
Bestowed in vain one effort to fulfil God’s plan.
Thou hast no broken bones; why bind thy limbs in splints?
Have patience yet awhile; then laugh; we’re not mere flints.
It is a bad investment to seek worldly gain.[148]
Whose hope is placed in heaven never shall see pain.[149] 85
The stratagems employed for worldly gain are vile,
But stratagems for gaining heaven are worth our while.
Blest stratagem is that which bursts a prison door.
Curst stratagem is one that spreads a dungeon floor.
The world’s a dungeon. We are all in prison here.
Burst, then, thy prison gate, and free thyself from fear.
What is the world? Unmindful of our God to be;
Not gold or silver, wife or children, things we see.
The wealth we hold at service of our God is blest.
‘The riches of the just are pure,’ Ahmed confess’d. 90
The water from a leak is danger to a ship;
The sea beneath her keel is just what makes her skip.
Great Solomon despised wealth, sway, with all his heart.
With countless treasures poor he named himself. Best part!
An empty jar will float upon a raging sea,
The air that fills it will not let it sunken be.
Th’ afflatus of true poverty man’s soul will buoy.
Above the troubles of the world he rides. Ahoy!
Should all earth’s boundless riches by him be possessed;
The whole is viewed in his pure sight as naught at best. 95
Close then the inlet to thy heart; seal it with love;
First filling it with wisdom’s spirit from above.
Endeavour is from God; so sickness, and its balm.
He vainly strives who would deny this truthful psalm.”
Of this complexion, many proofs the lion brought;
No answer those compulsionists in dispute sought.
The fox, the deer, the hare, and eke the sly jackal,
Were fain to quit compulsion’s cause, for good and all.
A treaty they concluded with the forest king,
That he, by this concession, should not lose a thing. 100
His daily ration ready always should be found;
And he should have no cause to trespass on their ground.
Lots they would cast among themselves from day to day.
On whom the lot should fall, he’d be the lion’s prey.
But lo, at length the lot upon the hare did light.
He found it very hard, and wailed his awful plight.
The other beasts remarked: “We each have had our turn;
And none of us refused th’ agreement to confirm.
By breach of faith on us fresh infamy bring not.
Begone forthwith; the lion must not be forgot.” 105
The hare replied: “Dear friends, a respite to me grant.
A stratagem I’ll plan, and cheat this grim tyrant.
My wily plan shall save the souls of all alive;
And safety heirloom be your children shall derive.
Thus every prophet’s promised to his sect, at least,
Salvation from the doom o’erhanging man and beast.
They found a ready way to ’scape beyond the spheres,
So soon as to reflect they turned their minds from fears.
Man sees another’s eye is but a wee, wee thing;
He knows how great a service can th’ eye’s pupil bring.” 110
The beasts in answer: “Jackass! Prate to us no more.
Consider. Thou’rt a hare; a beast of no great store.
What talk is this? Thy betters ne’er have used such speech.
They never would have dared to think as thou dost preach.
It must be thou’rt o’erweening, or our fate’s at hand.
For otherwise, pretensions such as thine can’t stand.”
To them as a rejoinder puss spoke: “My dear friends,
My inspiration’s God’s; small means effect great ends.
The wisdom God hath taught the little honey-bee,
You do not find possessed by lion, or by me. 115
We see its cells arranged, with liquid sweetness filled,
The portals of such art to open God hath willed.
Then see the silkworm, how it’s taught by God to spin.
Have elephants the power to draw out threads so thin?
The earthy Adam was by God taught all our names.[150]
His knowledge was the admiration of heaven’s frames.
Th’ angelic choir were silenced; they knew not so much.
The fiend be cursed. He’d not confess the fact was such.
That fasting hermit of six hundred thousand years[151]
Became the new-born babe’s dire muzzle,--source of tears. 120
Lest it should suck the milk religion’s teachings give,—
Lest it should soar on high around heaven’s towers, and live,—
The learning of external sense a muzzle lies,—
The milk of truth sublime’s denied to all its cries.
But God hath planted in man’s heart a precious pearl.
Nor seas, nor skies, such gem enclose within their whirl!
How long of form thy talk--form-worshipper--vain man?
Cannot thy senseless soul cast off form’s deadening ban?
Did human form alone suffice a man to make,
Ahmed and Abū-Jahl were one in grade, in stake. 125
A painting on a wall may show the human form.
But look and see what lacks, the figure to inform.
’Tis life it wants, and soul;--the pretty-looking thing!
Ask for its life. No! No! Though portrait of a king.
The heads of all earth’s lions bowed down meek and low,
When God the Seven Sleepers’[152] dog applauded. How!
To call it dog, to charge it with defect of race,
No harm can do it; God in heaven hath given it place.
’Twas not the pen prescrib’d the qualities of form;
Th’ Omniscient, the Just, ’twas, made it multiform. 130
Th’ Omniscient, the Just, a Spirit is, All-Blest;
Him no place holds; He’s not before, behind, east, west.
He influences matter from His high abode;
But heaven of heavens cannot contain the Spirit’s mode.”
That theme is endless. Let us then just turn away.
Let’s ask about the hare; hear what he has to say.
Sell off thy ass’ ears; with the price a fresh pair buy.
An ass’s ears will never understand this cry.[153]
Go to. Examine well the hare’s most foxy wile,—
The subtle stratagem that did the lion foil. 135
Wisdom’s the seal by which great Solomon did rule.
The whole world’s but a frame, and wisdom is its soul.
Hence ’tis, by wisdom’s spell, as clay on potter’s wheel,
The seas, the hills, the plains, are made man’s power to feel.
The lion, tiger, leopard, dread him as does mouse;
The shark, the crocodile, he follows to their house.
The demon and the fairy, both constrained to flight,
Have hid themselves from him,--are only seen by night.
The human being has his foes hid every side.
A prudent man by caution may in safety bide. 140
Those hidden foes,--the hideous, and the fair as well,—
By day and night affect his heart with charm and spell.
Thou enterest a river, just to have a bathe;
A hidden thorn may pierce thy foot, bared of its swathe.
Thou seest it not. ’Tis hid at bottom of the stream.
Thou feel’st it in thy foot; thou knowest it’s not a dream.
Plagues, troubles, fears, and cares, of various degree,
All spring from many sides, and fix themselves in thee.
Bear all with patience; slowly thou’lt experience gain.
Thou’lt recognise the truth; the dark will be made plain. 145
At length thou’lt scout the vagaries of learned men,
And take unto thyself, as patterns, saints of ken.
The beasts on second thoughts resolved to hear puss out.
“Explain,” said they, “what ’tis thou’dst have us set about.
Let’s hear; ’tis with the lion we shall have to do.
Set forth thy plan; let’s see what stratagem’s in view.
Deliberation’s ever wisdom’s truest friend;
Two heads than one are better,--lead to safer end.
The prophet spake: ‘O ruling judge, ere thou decide,
Take counsel; for ’tis said: “In councillors confide.“’” 150
The hare objects: “A secret’s not for ev’ry clod.
Odd even is at times; and sometimes even’s odd.
Too closely with a mirror shouldst thou converse hold,
From prudery it umbrage takes, grows dull; the scold.
On matters three, allow not oft thy lips to speak:
First, going; gold, next; third, the path thou hast to seek.
These all have sundry enemies and deadly foes,
Who’ll lie in ambush, each, if he thy purpose knows.
If thou ‘Adieu’ to only one or two shouldst call,
Remember: ‘Two’s a secret; three is none at all.’ 155
If fast together thou shouldst bind birds, two or three,
They’ll quiet lie on earth, nor strive themselves to free.
Men hold it best to ask for counsel in wide terms.
Beware; and wrangle not with perverse pachyderms.
The Prophet covertly men’s counsel used to seek.
His answer he’d obtain; his purpose did not leak.
He’d speak in parables, and so convey his wish,
That foes might hear, but not suspect its purport. Pish!
He’d ferret out in answers all he wished to learn;
And still not give an inkling of his thought’s real turn.” 160
Enough we’ve said of this. Now turn we to our tale.
By puss the lion’s held right hungry in the vale.
And so it was; the hare his counsel did conceal;
He would not let his comrades learn how he would deal.
Some hours he now let pass before he took his leave;
Then to the lion went, their honour to retrieve.
He found the brute impatient, chafing at delay,
From hunger’s pangs fierce howling, tearing every spray;
And roaring in his rage: “I knew it so would be!
Those vile, time-serving rascals! Thus they worry me! 165
They’re plausible, smooth-speaking, bland, calm, mild; and still
They’ve cheated me! Alas! Who will be cheated, will!
A too complaisant prince most foully is let in!
Who sees no farther than his nose, none heeds a pin!”
The path is smoothed beneath which lurks a deadly trap.
A missive’s filled with compliments; all mere clap-trap.
Bland messages, smooth words, are but a hook or snare.
Civility’s a sandbank; life’s bark’s oft wrecked there,
The sand from which a spring of water’s seen to flow
Is rare to find. Go, seek such. Where? I do not know. 170
Yes, yes! Be sure that sand’s a holy man of God,
Unto himself lost, rapt, in union with his Lord.
Religion’s crystal waters flow from him apace;
Disciples thence are edified and grow in grace.
A worldling is a sandbank, void of moisture quite,
On which you may make shipwreck, lose all chance of light.
Seek wisdom, then, from wisdom’s sons, the pure of mind;
So mayest thou learn the way salvation’s port to find.
A seeker after wisdom, is, of wisdom, fount.
“Humanities” he shuns; them, he does trash account. 175
A memory replete with holy Qur’ān’s lore
A “hidden tablet” is;[154] its mind is wisdom’s store.
If man begin as pupil to good common sense,
He’ll end by being teacher,--mind, his audience.
Man’s mind declares, as Gabriel to Ahmed there,[155]
“One step beyond due limit leaves me ashes sere.
Go forward, man of God; leave me; I know my place.
To every one’s not given to see God face to face.”
Whoever, out of sloth, endeavour’s path shall quit,
And patience lose, compulsion’s creed must needs admit. 180
Whoe’er affirms compulsion, brings woe on himself,
Until his troubles to the grave conduct the elf.
The Prophet said: “My mission, ’s truth to preach to man.
Much trouble will surround it during my life’s span.”
Compulsion’s but the setting of a broken bone,[156]
Or binding of a muscle, torn, asunder gone.
Thou hast not broke thy leg in travelling God’s path.
Why put thy leg in splints? Cast off the idle swath.
He that shall really lose a leg in God’s just fight,
To him Burāq shall come, a chariot of light.[157] 185
Religion’s carrier was he; carried then he’ll be.
God’s precepts he accepted; accepted now is he.
The Great King’s orders has he bravely carried out.
Henceforward he’s a herald;--shall God’s judgments shout.
The planets until now may have affected him;
Above the planets now he rests, and rules their trim.
If forms material find much honour in thy sight,
Thou’lt doubt the truth of writ: “The moon clave,” left and
right.[158]
Renew thy faith at heart, not merely with mouth’s gust,
O hypocrite, who covertly dost worship lust. 190
While lust is dominant, faith cannot be so strong;
For lust’s a bolt to close the door, lest faith should throng.
The virgin text of God explain not thou away;
Reform thyself; deform not what the Lord doth say.
As suits thy lusts thou comments makest on God’s Qur’ān.
Vile, as by thee perverted, is its sense, base man.
Thy case resemblance has with one of silly fly,
Who once upon a time himself thought very high.
Intoxicated was he, though he’d sipp’d no wine.
Like sunbeam’s mote he saw himself most gaily shine. 195
He’d heard of noble falcons scorning lure and cage;
And straightway dubbed himself the phœnix of the age.
Our fly on scrap of straw, in pool from ass’s ease,
Had poised himself, as though a sailor on the seas.
Then cried: “Lo! I’ve called forth a sea and ship at will.
Long since I ’ve had a notion, pleasure’s cup to fill.
Behold a sea and ship of which I captain am,
Imbued with naval science, bold as any ram.”
Imagination thus had conjured up a sea.
To him it boundless seemed, dwarfing credulity. 200
Compared with him it was a truly boundless pool.
When people see with their own eyes, call them not fool.
His universe was measured by his power of sight.
To such an eye such pool a sea was. He was right.
A false interpreter of scripture is such fly.
His fancy is the urine pool on which straws ply.
If flies in fancy thus explain the things they see,
By fortune’s freaks, in turn, a phœnix each may be.
He’s less than fly, of whom this tale example lends;
His soul unworthy is ev’n of the frame it tends. 205
Just like the hare who’d lion undertake to fight,
How should his soul remain in his poor carcase, slight?
The lion growled in tones of anger and of rage:
“My ear it was bewrayed me; war my foes did wage.
Compulsionists’ false wiles placed bandage on my eyes.
Their wooden swords it was that stung my skin, like flies.
Henceforward I’ll not list to such cajoleries,—
Of elves and demons, in the wilderness, mere cries.
Tear, rend them; O my heart, pay no regard to them.
Strip off their skins; there’s naught beneath; mere stratagem.” 210
When words deceitful are employed as wraps for guile,
They’re bubbles on the water, only last a while.
Such words are merely shell; th’ intent their kernel is;—
Or coloured portraiture of man; no life is his.
A shell may often cover kernel of foul smell.
A kernel sound can well afford to lose its shell.
If mind be pen; if page be water, in thy hands;
Be not surpris’d when all that’s written quick disbands.
On water ’tis to write, t’ expect good faith from bail.
Regret must follow. Shrug your shoulders. What avail! 215
Man with desires is oft puffed up, and wishes vain.
Put out desire; you’ll find Jehovah’s endless reign.
His messages are peace, and sweet to pious soul;
For He alone’s eternal, free from change, and whole.
Men’s prayers for kings and princes change full oft in tone.
The prayers of saints and prophets call on God alone.
Th’ existence of earth’s sovereign’s empty pomp and pride,
The glories of a prophet in his God abide.
The names of kings on coins are used a little while;
The name of Ahmed there is ever seen to smile.[159] 220
That name of Ahmed covers all the prophets still;[160]
As hundred, when ’tis said, ninety includes as well.
Reflections such as these would never have an end.
So turn we through our hare and lion’s tale to wend.
The hare but slowly towards the lion took his way.
Wiles in his brain he hatched; weighed what he had to say.
Procrastination served him his design to fill;
He’d secrets, one or two, the royal mind to still.
How many worlds there are that hang on wisdom’s worth.
How vast an ocean wisdom! Compasses the earth. 225
A shoreless ocean is the subtle mind of man
A fearless diver sounds its depths; as who else can?
Our bodies drift about in mind’s strong eddies still,
Like basins on the water, at the stream’s sole will.
Until they fill, they float like bowls, on ocean’s brink;
And, like the bowls, when full, they cannot choose but sink.
The wind’s invisible; a world without, we see.
Our bodies are the waves or drops of that vast sea.
Whatever means our bodies seek to grasp, anon,
A billow drives it far; no sooner seen than gone. 230
Until our hearts perceive the Giver of all good,
The swiftly-flying bolt shot far from o’er the flood,
They hold their coursers to be lost; and out of spite,
They push their roadsters hastily, as thoughts invite.
They hold their coursers to be lost; and all the while
Like noble courser, roadster’s borne them many a mile.
They now begin to wail, distress’d, and ask the way.
They knock at ev’ry door they see, they beg, they pray:
“The stealer of our courser was a little child.
What horse is this, my master? Seems it not too wild?” 235
“O yes, a horse it is; but not the horse you want.
Come to your senses, man; to some one else go chant.”
The soul is void of patency and fellowship.
Thou, like a wine-jar, full within, hast parched lip.
How shouldst thou e’er distinguish red from green or brown,
When these are all the colours unto thee well known?
And when thy mind is dazed by colour’s magic round,
All colour’s lost in one bright light diffused around.
Those colours, too, all vanish from our view by night.
We learn from this, that colour’s only seen through light. 240
The sense of colour-seeing’s not from light distinct.
So, too, the sudden rainbow of our mind’s instinct.
From sunlight, and the like, all outer colours rise;
The inward tints that mark our minds, from God’s sunrise.
The light that lights the eye’s the light that’s in the heart.
Eye’s light is but derived from what illumes that part.
The light that lights the heart’s the light that comes of God,
Which lies beyond the reach of sense and reason, clod!
By night we have no light; no colour can we see.
Thus, light we learn by darkness, its converse. Agree! 245
A seeing of the light, perception is of tints;
And these distinguished are through darkness’ gloomy hints.
Our griefs and sorrows were by God first introduced,
That joy to sense apparent thence should be reduced.
Occult things, thus, by converse, grow apparent, all.
Since God has no converse, apparent He can’t fall.
Sight first saw light, and then the colours saw.
From converse converse stands forth, as Frank from Negro.
By converse of the light, distinguish we the light;
A converse ’tis that converse shows unto our sight. 250
The light of God no converse has in being’s bound;
By converse, then, man has not its distinction found.
Our eyes cannot distinguish God, decidedly;
Though He distinguish Moses and the Mount from thee.
Form and ideal, gnat and lion, word and sense,
Sound of the voice and thought, learnst thou by dissidence,
The words and sounds take rise from exercise of thought.
The sea of thought is where? Of this thou knowest naught.
Words, as thou seest, rise as waves upon the sea.
The sea of thought thou knowest great, immense to be. 255
The waves of thought arise, by breath of knowledge raised;
They take the forms of words, of sounds, which ear has seized.
Through words have forms arisen, and passed away again;
As waves still lose themselves beneath the ocean’s main.
From realm of formlessness, existence doth take form;
And fades again therein: “To Him we must return.”[161]
Each moment, then, for thee death and return await,
As Ahmed hath declared: “Life’s transitory.”[162] Wait!
Thoughts, bolts are, shot by God into the air like dust.
Whose thoughts can reach to God, through densest air of lust? 260
The world’s renewed each moment, though we still remain
In ignorance that permanence can change sustain.
Life, like a river, ceaselessly, is still renewed;
And apes persistency, in forms by change subdued,
Through fleetness it puts on continuity’s shape;
Like squib when ’tis revolved in dark by boy with tape.
A flash of flame, through motion’s necessary speed,
Appears unto our eyes a fire of size, indeed.
Its length and its extension, through quickness of fact,
Appear to be effects of God’s creative act. 265
A student of this mystery, a doctor of great skill,
Is our Husāmu-’d-Dīn,[163] whose praises books would fill.
The lion, now enraged with hunger’s gnawing pain,
Perceived the hare was coming, bounding o’er the plain.
All carelessly, in confidence, he frisking came,
The lion all the while growled, gnashed his teeth from shame.
No consciousness of fault was visible, no fear;
But confidence, sure sign his conscience he felt clear.
When he’d reached hearing range, the lion him addressed
In tones of wrath: “Thou demon, insolent, possessed! 270
Know I’m a lion; elephants my prey I make.
The tigers, spotted pards, by me are caused to quake.
A petty hare am not I, slighted thus to be,
Or see my just dominion spurned by likes of thee.
Cast off assumed prim innocence, awake to fact;
Thou hear’st the lion’s roar; forget not thus the pact.”
The hare replied: “Gramercy! Hear my poor excuse.
Let me explain. Your Majesty will ne’er refuse.”
The lion now: “Excuse? Thou basest of the base!
Is this the time to pay thy court? A pretty case! 275
Unseasonably crowing cock art thou! Reprieved?
Excuse from simpleton can never be received.
A simpleton’s excuse is worse than was his fault.
Excuse of ignorance were science to assault.
Excuse from thee, thou hare, were quite devoid of sense.
Take thou me not for hare; with me strive not to fence.”
The hare to him: “O prince! Have pity on the weak!
Lend ear unto the tales of them who justice seek.
Thankoffering let it be for thy august estate.
Poor supplicant like me, thou’lt not drive from thy gate. 280
Great river like, thy boons stream aye through all canals;
Each flower that decks thy hair in price rich pearls excels.
The sea is not dried up by yielding showers of rain.
Thy ease will not decrease by lessening of my pain.”
The lion then: “My clemency I show to those
Who’ve it deserved. ’Tis stature rules the length of clothes.”
The hare: “Give ear. Should I of grace unworthy prove,
I’m at thy feet. My life is thine, I cannot move.
At morning’s early hour I set out for thy court.
Companion had I with me. True, the way is short. 285
That second hare I speak of, food was for thy maw;
By lot selected, as the pact lays down the law.
Upon the road, a lion on us onslaught made.
The savage, strange invader, rendered us afraid.
I remonstrated with him; told him our intent;
Said we were coming here; by treaty were we sent.
He answered: ‘Prate not to me. Treaty such as this
No value has. I’m king. He a usurper is.
Thy paltry king and thee I’ll quickly rend in two,
If thou and thy companion will not with me go.’ 290
I craved of him permission, him to leave awhile,
Till I could come and tell thee of his claim and guile.
He granted leave; but kept my fellow as a pledge;
Saying otherwise he’d kill me, as his privilege.
We strove to coax and pacify the sturdy brute.
’Twas no avail. My mate he’d keep; me he’d depute.
My comrade three times was in bulk more full than I;
More plump, more sleek, more toothful. Dare I tell a lie?
Henceforward, through that lion, who can come this way?
The case is so. I’ve told thee truly all my say. 295
From hence, for evermore, thy ration’s lost, forsooth.
The truth I speak to thee. Unpleasant oft is truth.
Wouldst thou thy ration have, arise and clear the way.
Come on. I’ll guide. Let’s see, then, who shall win the day.”
The lion now: “In God’s name! Come! Where is the beast?
Go thou before, if thou speak truth. Take heed at least.
I’ll treat him as he merits, and a hundred such.
But should this prove a lie, thou’lt rue it very much.”
The hare set out in front, so acting as a guide,
That he might lead the lion as he should decide. 300
A well there was not far off, which the hare had seen.
This pit he destined for the lion’s last death-scene.
They journeyed thus, the two, towards the well in haste,
The scheming, plotting hare’s fell stratagem to taste.
A stream of water freely bears the chaff away;
But how it undermines a mountain’s hard to say.
All single-handed, Moses,--Red Sea at command,—
Can drown pursuing Pharaoh’s vast ungodly band.
A gnat, by God’s behest, a Nimrod may annul;
Its feeble wings may burst the sutures of his skull.[164] 305
The doom of him who acts on what a foe adjusts,
Is like the end of one his envier who trusts.
The punishment of Pharaoh’s listening to Haman,[165]
Resembles Nimrod’s, who faith pinned upon Satan.[166]
A foe who talks in friendly guise, a false game plays;
He vaunts the bait; but be thou sure, a trap he lays.
His proffered sugarcandy poison will conceal.
His seeming kindly offices are treachery’s veil.
Should God ordain thy fall, thy sight will blinded be;
’Twixt friend and foe the difference thou’lt fail to see. 310
Since thus it is, betimes betake thyself to prayer;
Fast, supplicate, entreat thee gracious God to spare.
Thus pray: “O Thou, to whom all secrets well are known,
Crush not Thy trusting servant ’neath sore trial’s stone.
If doglike acts I’ve acted, Thou who lions formest,
O let not loose upon me lions Thou informest.
O Lord of mercy, Pardoner of sin, All-just,
Upon me vengeance wreak not, or succumb I must.
Cause not Thy pleasant waters me to burn like fire;
Let not the fiery furnace form of stream acquire. 315
If Thou me madden with the vials of dismay,
Thou’lt make nonentities the parts of things to play.”
What’s madness? ’Tis a bandage to the eye of faith.
A stone we see as pearl, an island as a frith.
What’s madness? False to judge of every stick and straw.
To seek the violet’s perfume in hip and haw.
One day, when Solomon a camp had formed afield,
The birds all flocked around him, homage due to yield.
They found he spake their language, all their secrets knew.
With pleasure, birds of every kind about him flew. 320
The birds with Solomon all left their _twit-twit-twee_,
And spake a tongue articulate; as one might see.
Synglottism is a link, a very potent spell;[167]
Among mere strangers, man’s a captive in a cell.
How many Turks and Hindūs synglottise with us;
How many pairs of each are strange as incubus!
A synglottist is then a man’s another self;
But syncardism, than synglottism’s much closer, elf.
Besides our words, our signs, our written characters,
From hearts, there rise by hundreds mute interpreters. 325
The birds about their secrets one by one communed;
About their knowledge, sciences, and voices tuned.
To pay their court to Solomon their notes they raised;
Revealed their capabilities; skill of each praised.
Not out of pride and vanity; excess ’twould seem;
But solely to please Solomon, gain his esteem.
So slaves that seek for favour at a master’s hand
Exert themselves to name the talents they command.
But if they feel ashamed of one would them purchase,
Straightway they’re sick, halt, deaf, or something still
more base. 330
The turn then came for hoopoe’s setting forth his skill,
To say what he could do, what office he could fill.
Said he: “O King, one little talent’s all I own.
I’ll tell it in few words; succinctness is a crown.”
Said Solomon: “Let’s hear it. What then is thy skill?”
The hoopoe answered: “This.--I perch where’er I will.
From my seat I look down like plumbline on the ground,
And see if hidden water under it is found;
Where is it; at what depth; what are its qualities;
Whence takes its rise; from rock, sand, clay’s varieties. 335
O Solomon, whene’er thou send’st thy armies forth,
Me call to mind; my skill is surely notice worth.”
To him replied then Solomon: “Esteemed good friend,
Thee I will name Purveyor-General on land.
Whene’er my troops go forth, through sandy deserts sent,
With them thou’lt journey; so, ne’er will be water scant.”
The crow on hearing this with jealousy was stung.
Addressing Solomon, he said: “This bird a lie has sung.
His insolence is great to boast thus to the king.
Such falsehood’s quite disgusting. Who’s heard such a thing? 340
Had he possessed this very wonderful insight,
Would he be caught in springes barely out of sight?
He cannot see those traps beneath a little mound;
So caught he is, and caged. High dudgeon thence is found.”
Said Solomon: “O hoopoe, true is this remark.
A gulp of vanity has set thee raving, stark.
How is it thou’rt so tipsy early in the day,
To come and prate of things so far out of the way?”
The hoopoe then replied: “Great King, against poor me,
For love of God, believe not all my foes’ false plea. 345
If untruth I have spoken,--cannot prove my tale,—
I cast myself before thee; kill me without fail.
The crow denies the rule of Providence on earth;
With all his cunning, he’s a miscreant from birth.”
Of miscreants’ defects, if any one in us
Exist, it’s sure to spread,--a plague-spot cancerous.
A snare man may detect in every lust of flesh,
If God’s decree will not he fall into its mesh.
By God’s decree our reason ceases clear to see,
As moon, when darkened all, can hide the sun from me. 350
Whoever dares deny God’s ruling providence,
’Tis Providence decrees his blindness, want of sense.
The Father of Mankind, Lord Nomenclator first,[168]
In every nerve possess’d a vein of knowledge nursed.
He knew the names of all things, right, without default.
From first to last his mind could hold them from revolt.
Whatever name he gave, that name endured unchanged.
If he said: “This thing’s active,” slothful it ne’er ranged.
He knew at first who was believer in God’s word.
He from the first, too, knew the miscreant toward his Lord. 355
From one who knows them well, of things seek thou the fames,
And mystery of the symbol: “God taught him the names.”[169]
The name of everything, with us, is what it seems;
With God, the name of everything, what He it deems.
By Moses was his staff a simple rod proclaimed;
By its Creator, God, a dragon was it named.
‘Umer[170] idolater was classed by each array;
God him believer called upon creation’s day.
What is by man termed seed upon this transient heath,
Impressed by God was with the seal: “Father of death.”[171] 360
In realm of nullity that seed received a form,
Existent with its God; nor less, nor more; a worm.
Result thereof sprung forth the essence of our name
With the Creator, who will be our final aim.
He each one names according to his last estate,
Not with respect to that which is but passing fate.
So soon as mind of man with light has gained its strength,
It spies the soul, and mysteries of every name, at length.
When man perceives therein the kingdom of truth’s rays,
He falls in adoration, worships, spends his days. 365
That Adam’s praise, whose blessed name we’re proud to bear,[172]
Should I recite till judgment-day, would not end there.
Decree of Providence so willed, with all his lore,
One single prohibition known, cost him right sore.
He asked: “Was prohibition laid, joy to prevent;
Or can, by gloss, evasion unto it be lent?”
To his mind, explanation having been inferred,
His appetites, perplexed, to taste the wheat preferred.[173]
A thorn the foot of Eden’s gardener thus rent.
A thief the chance perceived, the garden robbed, and went. 370
Amazement o’er, the gardener’s himself again.[174]
He saw the thief had carried off th’ unguarded train.
He sobbed aloud: “My God, I’ve deeply sinned;” and sighed:
“A darkness came, and from the road I turn’d aside.”
Decree of God was thus a cloud the sun to veil.
A lion, dragon, were a mouse beneath that bale.
When judgment’s needed, should I not detect a snare,
Not I alone am blind, my weakness others share.
Blest he, whose steadfast feet have never gone astray!
Who waywardness has shunned, and taught his tongue to pray! 375
Should God’s decree encompass thee with blackest night,
The same decree will readily help set thee right.
Should Providence at times thy life to menace seem,
’Twas Providence that gave it, can prolong its gleam.
Should life’s events appear to threaten every way,
God can in heaven prepare a home for thee to stay.
What ’tis thou tremblest at, a special favour count,
Designed to bring thee safe to Zion’s holy mount.
And now we turn again from morals,--they’ve no end,—
To see how fares it with our lion and his friend. 380
They came to where the well was. Here the lion saw
The hare his pace had slackened, backward ’gan to draw.
At this he remonstrated: “What art thou about!
Come forward still. The enemy we must find out.”
The hare replied: “I have no power to move a foot.
From fear I faint. I tremble; courage has ebbed out.
Thou seest how pale my face; like ashes I’ve become;
An indication sure of fear, most troublesome.
God hath the countenance the mind’s true index named.
The adept keeps his eye on countenance enchained. 385
A face’s colour tell-tale is, like tinkling bell.
A horse’s neigh of other steeds’ approach will tell.
A sound from anything attention brings to pass;
’Tis thus we know the creak of door from bray of ass.
The Prophet said, no point of character t’ asperse:
‘Enigma is a man until he’s heard converse.’
The colour in man’s face makes known how stands the heart.
Compassion take on me; thy sympathy impart.
Enjoyments sensual give man a rosy face;
The fame of pale-faced men reports good sense and grace. 390
I feel within me what makes all my joints seem weak;
It’s borne away my colour, strength, and power to speak.
It casts down whomsoe’er it chances to attack;
As tempest uproots trees it meets upon its track.
I’m subjected to that by which both men and beasts
Are turned to stocks and stones;--to say the very least.
They are but parts; that thing a universal is.
It makes men’s faces pale; gives ashiness where ’tis;
As long as nature mournful is, or full of glee;—
As long as fields now verdant, naked then we see. 395
The sun each morning rises, joying in his course;
At eve sinks down again, and goes from bad to worse.
The planets circulating, each within its sphere,
Are subject to _immersion_ when the sun they near.
The moon in splendour far excels each tiny star.
But near its change it dwindles almost to a hair.
The very earth, that in firm steadfastness doth sit,
When subject to an earthquake, shakes as in a fit.
How many regions in the world, encroaching sands
Have changed from gardens into bare and sterile lands. 400
The air, that with its breezes gives new life to all,
When Providence ordains, brings pestilence and thrall.
Sweet water’s running stream, a very source of life,
In pond confined, turns fetid, black, and poison-rife.
The fire, so arrogant when fed with breezes long,
With one puff is extinguished by a breath too strong.
The sea, now boisterous with waves and swelling tide,
At times is like a mirror, shrinking from land’s side.
The sky, revolving night and day, is never still;
The seven planets like, it works its Maker’s will. 405
Those planets, too, in apogee and perigee,--what not,—
Auspicious, inauspicious are in several lot.
Thyself consider;--little part, of universals mixed;—
And thou’lt divine the state of all extended, fixed.
Since universals are by no means free from toil,
How should a petty part escape from trouble’s moil?
A part, too, that’s compound of every opposite,—
Of fire, and air, and water; adding earth its mite.
If sheep from wolf should flee, there’s really wonder none;
To see them herd together ’d ’stonish every one. 410
Life springs from concord of th’ ingredient opposites.
And death results when discord their pact disunites.
God’s mercy hath appointed every lion’s mate;
And unto each wild ass a fit associate.
But since the world in trouble prison-like offends,
What wonder that all’s transient,--that all suffering ends?”
’Twas thus the hare the lion tricked with specious lies;
And added: “Hence the reason why I cannot rise.”
The lion answered: “I see naught to cause thy fear.
Point out to me the object seems to thee so drear.” 415
The hare then: “In this well thy foe takes his repose.
His stronghold is this pit, where he’s secure from woes.
A wise man hides himself at bottom of a well;
For ’tis in solitude heart’s choicest raptures dwell.
Seclusion’s gloom is easier borne than wrongs from men.
Who craves a victor’s mercy, saves his life just then.”
The lion muttered: “Onward come. My arm is strong.
Go look. At home is he? He’ll not live long.”
The hare: “Alas! Already I’ve endured his gaze.
Take me unto thy breast. My mind is all amaze. 420
From off thy back, most potent lord and prince,
I’ll look down in the well. I’ll neither blink nor wince.”
The lion took him on his back without more fuss.
So, under this protection to the well went puss.
They both looked down; and in the water there
Reflection shadowed forth a lion and a hare.
The lion saw his own shape in the water shine:
“Another lion,” thought he, “with fat hare on chine.”
His foe he fancied, thus, that in the well he’d spied.
The hare he set down safely; in leapt he with pride. 425
He thus fell in the pit he had for others dug.
Iniquity will visit those who drink out of her mug.
Iniquity’s a pit into which tyrants fall.
Such is the firm conviction of our wise men all.
The wickeder a man, the deeper does he sink.
So justice wills; and so, the wrong’d will doubtless think.
O thou who in thy might injustice dost commit,
For thy own self a pit thou diggest; our tale to wit.
Thou weavest round thyself a web, as does silkworm;
Thou’lt not escape unless to justice thou conform. 430
Look not upon the weak as quite without a friend.
Reflect; ’tis said: “When God’s help comes.”[175] Where’s then
thy end?
If thou’rt an elephant in strength, the weak will flee
To his Protector. Then the Lord’s wrath shalt thou see.
Whenever wrong’s weak victim on his God doth call,
A clamour rises from the ranks in heaven’s hall.
If with his blood, in pride, thou stain thy teeth just now,
The toothache shall avenge him; dentist’s victim thou.
The lion saw himself reflected in the well.
Through blindest rage himself from foe he could not tell. 435
He thought his own reflection was his hated foe,
And slew himself while seeking on him to work woe.
So tyrant, when thou seest injustice in the world,
Thyself behold. Those deeds thy banner have unfurled.
Thine are included with them in God’s just decree.
Thy rage, greed, lust’s reward most certainly thou’lt see.
They are thy very self; in them thou art condemned.
Thou judgest them; in selfsame manner thou’rt contemned.
In thy own acts thou seest not the sin thou work’st;
Or otherwise thy own self’s foe thou’dst be from first. 440
It is thyself against whom thou mak’st thy attack;
Just as the lion took the hare upon his back.
If thou’d sound deep to bottom of the moral well.
Thyself thou’dst find there; thy own acts would plainly tell.
The lion at the bottom found out who was there.
Let him as likeness serve of many who are here.
Whoe’er beats out the teeth of weaker than himself,
Commits the lion’s error;--springs upon himself.
O thou who loath’st a mole upon thy neighbour’s cheek,
Reflect. ’Tis but an image. Thy own features seek. 445
Believers are as mirrors; each sees self in each.
So said the Prophet. His words to us truth may teach.
Thou wearest spectacles, of blue, or red, or green;
And thence thou judgest all is tinged with that sheen.
If thou wilt use a window glazed with coloured glass,
Thou may’st expect the sun will seem of that same class.
If thou’rt not mad, thou’lt know the colour is thy own.
Thyself call evil. Henceforth others leave alone.
Believers see with eye of faith,--the light of God.
How else to them were visible all things’ synod? 450
If thou examine things with hell-fire in thy heart,
How canst thou see distinct the good and bad apart.
Seek by degrees to drown that fire in holy light.
So shalt thou, sinner, soon, thy weakness change for might.
And do Thou, Lord, asperge from mercy’s cleansing stream,
To change the fire of sin to light of faith supreme.
The ocean’s waters are a mere drop in Thy hand;
The streams of mercy, fire of wrath, at Thy command.
If Thou so will, the fire a pleasant stream may be.
And at Thy word, a lake a fiery pit we’d see. 455
From Thee spring our devotions, supplications, prayers.
’Tis Thou deliverest the victims from their slayers.
Without our supplication, Thou entreaty gavest.
The stores of Thy great mercy for all men Thou savest.
The hare, for his deliverance, jubilant set out,
To join his fellows, scattered in their homes about.
He saw the lion prone at bottom of the well;
Then rapidly went back his stratagem to tell.
He clapped his hands for joy at his escape from death,
Exuberant as plant sprouts from the earth beneath. 460
Its stalk and leaf break forth from prison underground.
It rears itself apace, makes friends with th’ air around.
The leaves burst from the stem, and spread themselves abroad;
Until by growth a tree, whose grace all men applaud.
It now expands in thanks for favours of the Lord;
Each leaf, flower, fruit intones a hymn of praise, like bard.
“Thou, Giver of all good things, nourishedst my root.
And madest me become a strongly growing shoot.”
Our souls, shut up in prison in our frames of clay,
So break forth into raptures when they’re called away. 465
They dance for very joy, from love of God Allwise,
When, like full moon perfected, they in glory rise.
Material beings, thus, their dance perform, and souls.
Ask not of them the subject of their hyperboles.
The hare had lodged the lion in a dungeon safe.
More shame for lion was it, hare should make him chafe.
Just so a shame it is, and subject for surprise,
The state in which he’s left, who Fakhru-’d-Dīn would rise.[176]
O, he’s a lion, sure, at bottom of a well.
His pride of flesh the hare that cast him down to hell. 470
His pride, the hare, at large, disporting as it will;
Himself down in the pit. O, what a bitter pill!
The lion-slaying hare now scampered to his friends,
Exclaiming: “Good news bring I; let joy know no ends!
Good news! Good news! Festivities bring into play!
The hell-cat’s gone to hell, from which he came our way.
Good news! Good news! That foe to all our lives, and peace.
Has had his teeth extracted, through our Maker’s grace.
He who so many crushed with paw of tyranny,
Like rubbish has been swept by death’s broom clean away.” 475
A convocation now was held by all the beasts,
Hilarity and joy enlivened all their breasts.
About the hare, as candle, they, moths-like, all flocked.
All their respects presented; none were found who mocked.
They all declared: “Thou art an angel by heaven sent
(Angel of death, however, he to lion went).
Whatever thou may’st be, our souls thy sacrifice!
Thou’st triumphed. For such prowess praise will not suffice.
Our God it was endowed thee with such wondrous skill.
May God be praised! Deliverance is by His will. 480
Pray, tell us all about it. How was such thing done?
How couldst thou compass to deceive th’ experienced drone?
Relate in full. ’Twill comfort give to all our souls.
Detail the facts; balm will they be for bygone doles.
Recount at length; for, ah, how many tyrannies
Did we not suffer from him, who now stark dead lies!”
Quoth he: “Most venerable Sirs! God’s grace did all.
What could a hare accomplish without Him at call?
He strength of purpose gave me,--light from heaven above.
That light it was that nerved me in my every move. 485
God granteth crowning grace, to further cause of truth,
’Tis God also who sends vicissitudes on earth.
He, ’tis, alternately, who parties makes prevail.
Now mere opinionists, now men of light avail.
If then, in turn, thou now thyself find uppermost,
Why let hypocrisy, presumption, make thee boast?”
Joy not o’er great prosperity. It does not last.
Airs give not thou thyself; thou’rt but a passing guest.
They whose eternal kingship lasts beyond all times,[177]
Who sing God’s praise beyond the seven spheres and climes, 490
They more endure than transient reigns of kings’ short rolls.
They are the never-failing feeders of men’s souls.
If thou the pleasures of the world short time forego,
Eternal bliss may compensate th’ imbroglio.
Know that this nether world but for a period lasts.
T’ abandon it, eternal rest to man forecasts.
Give ear. Forsake all mundane ease, all earthly rest;
Then will thy soul enjoy heaven’s cup with double zest.
Cast thou the carcase vile of earthly pomp to dogs.
The cup of mere surmise reject; the soul it clogs. 495
VI.
The Greater (Spiritual) Warfare.
Great Princes all! We’ve killed our dread external foe.
Within us, still, a worse than he remains, I trow.
To slay this inner foe is not the task of mind;
Our moral lion’s not destroyed by tricks refined.
Our flesh, a hell; that hell a fiery dragon is.
Whole oceans can’t extinguish those fierce flames of his.
Earth’s seven oceans all were lost within his maw;
His raging fires would still burn high, to mankind’s awe.
Pitcoal, hard-hearted miscreants; these are its food;[178]
They sink within it, miserable, abject brood. 5
Withal, its craving hunger ne’er will be appeased,
Until the voice of God cry unto it: “Art eased?”
“Eased?” will it answer; “No; not yet awhile by far;
Behold my flame, my fury,--burning, fiery roar.”
It swallows down a universe in its fell mood;
And instantly shrieks out: “More food! More food! More food!”
God, from nubiquity,[179] His foot will stamp on hell.
Then will it cease to burn: “He willed, and it befell!”[180]
Our fleshly lusts in us are but a part of hell;
Parts have the qualities of their universal. 10
The foot of God alone can stamp out hell’s alarms.
Who else but God supreme to bend such bow has arms?
Straight arrows serve alone to be shot from a bow;
But lust’s distorted spring shoots crooked arrows too.
Be thou in mind upright as arrow straight for bow.
A bow will not shoot straight, unless the arrow’s so.
We’ve fought our fight and conquered in our outward strife.
Now turn we our attention to the inner life.
We’ve done with outer warfare, lesser as it is;
And as the Prophet, wage the greater warfare, his. 15
We put our trust in God; from Him we ask for aid;
With His assistance faith can move a mountain staid.
To rout an armed foe is nothing very fresh;
A lion true is he who conquers his own flesh.
To illustrate this truth, give ear unto a tale,
That thou of these few words the moral mayest inhale.
From Cæsar[181] an ambassador to ‘Umer came,[182]
Through deserts far-extending, from Madīna’s fame.[183]
He asked: “Where is the palace of the Caliph, men;[184]
That I to it may lead my cavalcade, my train?” 20
The people answered: “Thou’lt no Caliph’s palace find,
Our Caliph’s sole pavilion’s his enlightened mind.
Through his ‘_Commandership_’ his fame to Rome has come;[185]
But like our other poor, a hut’s his ample home.
How shouldst thou see _that_ palace, brother, stranger, guest,
When in thy mind’s eye thou a beam hast, unconfessed?
Cast out that beam; make clear thy eye from every mote
Then mayst thou entertain the hope to see his cote.”
Whoever shall his heart cleanse from all passions’ bale,
Will soon perceive therein a court and presence hale. 25
When Ahmed’s heart was cleansed of evil’s fire and smoke,[186]
Whichever way he turned, God’s countenance bespoke.[187]
So long as man keeps company with evil thought,
How can he understand God’s countenance in aught?
He that a window’s pierced from heart towards heaven’s recess,
Sees in each mote a ray from Sun of Righteousness.[188]
God shines apparent in the midst of other things,
As moon in majesty among the stars’ twinklings.
Place thou two finger-tips upon thy two eyeballs.
What seest thou now of all the world? Darkness befalls. 30
Thou seest it not; but that the world exists, thou’lt trust.
Our vices are the finger-tips of fleshly lust.
Thy finger-tips remove; _instanter_, as before,
Thou lookest around and seest whate’er thou wilt explore.
His people asked of Noah where righteousness might be.
He said: “Lo, there! With muffled heads you cannot see.
You’ve wrapped your cloaks in folds about your heads and eyes.
Your sense of sight cannot see what before you lies.”
The world’s eye man is; all the rest’s mere skin and shell.
A real eye’s he who strives his “Friend” to see right well.[189] 35
Unless we see our Friend, ’twere better we were blind,
A friend that is not constant’s better out of mind.
When Rome’s ambassador had heard those words so wise,[190]
His eager curiosity began to rise.
He sought for ‘Umer with redoubled zeal and zest;
But in so doing lost his horse, and eke his chest.
He wandered everywhere to seek the Caliph out.
Like one distracted asked each passer-by his route.
“Is’t possible,” he said, “that such a man there be,
When like the soul to sight invisible is he?” 40
He sought for him as though he ’d been his truant slave,
But: “He who seeks shall find” ’s a very well-known stave.
A desert-Arab woman saw he at the last,
Who told him ‘Umer, then, beneath date-palm slept fast.
Beneath a date-palm! Far from mankind’s busy plod.
That date-palm’s shadow shaded the Shadow of God![191]
He went towards the tree; a station took afar;
He saw ‘Umer; a fit of trembling showed his fear.
On that ambassador did awe and dread alight.
While o’er his heart there stole a sense of sweet delight. 45
Two feelings, love and dread, by nature opposites,
Were mingled in his bosom by some occult rites.
He thought within himself: “I’ve many princes seen;
In sovereign presence I have ever welcome been.
This fit of awe and trembling’s very strange to me;
And yet without dismay this man I cannot see.
I’ve been in forests where the lions make their lair;
I’ve met them face to face; yet knew not what was fear.
In battle I’ve been, oft; in thickest of the fight.
My arm’s upheld our cause, when in most desperate plight. 50
Wounds have I dealt, received, that threatened life to take,
Among the brave, the bravest; my heart knew no quake.
This man is weaponless, supine upon the ground.
Why then this tremor? It my every limb has bound.
A ghostly awe is this; it’s not a mortal fear.
Most certainly it’s not a dread of this man here.
He who fears God has admonition of the Lord;
Both men and demons stand in awe of his mere word.”
Mute he remained in reverential attitude,
Till ‘Umer woke from his trance of beatitude. 55
Profound obeisance and grave salutation made,
As said the Prophet: “First, salute; then, embassade.”
The Caliph answered: “And on thee be peace! Draw near;”
Assured him of protection; bade him put off fear.
“Fear not” a word of comfort is to trembling soul;
A generous tribute ’tis, when strong with weak condole.
Men set at ease the object whom they wish to raise,—
Relieve his heart from palpitation; bid fears cease.
But unto one who feels no dread how say: “Fear not”?
What lesson’s this thou givest to one whose lesson’s got? 60
So ‘Umer put at ease that much perturbed man;
And calmed his wavering mind, as noble hearts best can.
To him he then addressed some subtle words of sense,
Set forth the attributes of God,--man’s best defence,
Declared the goodness of the Lord to all who trust
In Him alone; the rank they gain in trance combust.
Saint’s ecstasy springs from a glimpse of God, his pride.
His station’s that of intimate. He’s bridegroom; God is bride.[192]
A bride’s veiled graces are not seen by groom alone;
Her unveiled charms solely to him in private shown. 65
In state she first appears before the people all;
Her veil removed, the groom alone is at her call.
Entranced are many Gnostic worshippers, I ween;
Few gain admission to the presence-chamber scene.
‘Umer told all the stations passed through by his soul;—
Its flights, fights, tribulations, ere it was made whole.
He spoke of times when flight of time’s of no account;
Of Holiness’s station, glorious to recount.
He talked of atmospheres in which his righteous soul
Had soared to seek fresh conquests of devotion’s whole. 70
Its every flight had been beyond th’ horizon scant;
Beyond the hope, or e’en desire, of aspirant.
He found a willing list’ner in the stranger guest,
Whose mind was framed t’ investigate such mysteries blest.
The teacher was perfection; novice full of zeal;
Like clever jockey on a steed with lightning heel.
He found his scholar apt, of great capacity.
So good seed sowed in fertile soil sagacity.
Th’ ambassador now asked: “Of true believers Prince!
How can a soul from heaven come down to earth’s province;— 75
How can so great a bird be cooped up in a cage?”
He answered: “God speaks words of power, most sage.
Those words, addressed to nothings without eyes or ears,
Set them in motion. Like a ferment, fruit it bears.
Those words no sooner spoken, quick those nothings all
In motion put themselves, and reach existence’ hall.
Or He commands these beings, creatures of His own;
And they return to nothing, whence He them had drawn.
He speaks unto the flowers; they forthwith burst in bloom.
His voice the flint hears; lo, it’s a cornelian stone. 80
A spell He laid on matter; spirit it became.
By charm from Him the sun sprang forth, a lambent flame.
If He but whisper words of awe, the sun again
Is seized with darkness of eclipse, like night amain.
What is’t He says, by which the teeming eye of cloud
Sheds forth its tears, as drops from water-skin unsewed?
What incantation to the earth addresses He,
To make it produce cattle,--whose hides used may be?
The hesitations of each puzzled child of thought
Arise from some enigma by which God’s him caught. 85
On horns of a dilemma is he fixed, poor man.
‘Shall I do this,’ says he, ‘when ’ts opposite I can?’
From God, too, is the power to make selection’s choice
Of two solutions. One is taken, through inward voice.
Wouldst thou be always free from hesitation, fool?
Stuff not thy mind’s ear tight with doubt’s dull cotton-wool;
That thou mayst solve the riddles God may set for thee;—
That thou mayst understand the full of mercy free.
Then shall thy heart receive His inspiration’s gift,—
A power of speaking from an inward impulse’ drift. 90
The ear and eye of soul are organs not of sense;
The ears of sense and mind are not like soul’s, intense.
The word “_compulsion_” puts me out of humour quite.
Who hath not love of God, compulsion’s slave’s, by right.
This union’s based on truth (compulsion is too proud);
It is a glimpse of sunshine breaking through a cloud.
Be it compulsion. Man’s compulsion it is not;—
Not the compulsion of browbeating from a sot.
Compulsion’s felt by them, my very worthy friend,
Whose eyes of faith, ope’d in their hearts, on God attend. 95
The absent and the future patent are to them;
To speak about the past is what they most contemn.
Election and compulsion, theirs, are not the same.
As dewdrops in the oyster-shell rare pearls became.[193]
Outside, they’re dewdrops, solely, whether great or small;
Inside they’re pearls of price, whose value knows no fall.
Such men by nature are just like the musk-deer’s pod;
It’s fed with blood of artery, musk it yields, through God.
Ask not how ’tis that outward blood can change like this;
Becoming musk when in the pod secreted ’tis. 100
Ask not how copper vile, by wise alchemist’s art,
Is changed to gold when solved by elixir in part.[194]
Election and compulsion, fancies both, in thee;
But when by saints they’re viewed, God’s glory may they be.
Upon the table, bread’s a lifeless, senseless mass;
When taken in man’s mouth, the soul it joins, in class.
On table transubstantiation takes not place;[195]
The soul it is transforms it, nourished by God’s grace.
Such is the soul’s great power; most perspicacious man,
So long as that soul life and power retain can. 105
A human being, mass of mingled flesh and blood,
Moved by the Lord, can cleave hill, dale, mine, and sea’s flood.
The strength of strongest man can merely split a stone;[196]
The Power that informs man’s soul can cleave the moon.[197]
If man’s heart but untie the mouth of mystery’s sack,
His soul soon soars aloft beyond the starry track.
If heaven’s mystery divulged should, ’haps, become,
The whole world ’twould burn up, as fire doth wood consume.”
Let’s contemplate the acts of God, the deeds of men;
Know, men’s deeds do exist. This truth is patent, then. 110
If men’s deeds be not in this nether world of ours,
Say not thou unto others: “Why these deeds of yours?”
God’s act it is through which those deeds of ours arise;
Our acts are but the sequels of God’s agencies.
The letter, or the spirit, ’tis, our reason weighs.
But both at once it cannot comprehend always.
Examining the spirit, letter we neglect;
At one time forwards, backwards we cannot prospect.
If thou straight forward look at any point of time,
Thou canst not backwards see, whatever be the clime. 115
Our souls not taking in the letter, spirit too,
How could they e’er create these predicates, one, two?
God comprehendeth all things;--all things doth ensue;
One act’s no hindrance, with Him, other acts to do.
The reason Satan gave: “Since Thou hast tempted me,”[198]
The scheming demon strove to hide his sin, we see.
His trespass Adam owned: “Against ourselves we’ve sinned.”[199]
God’s act he, like as we, then left not out of mind.
Through shame the act of Satan Adam secret kept.
Self-accusation’s fruit, in consequence, he reaped. 120
Repentance shown by Adam, God in mercy said:
“In thee ’twas I created, sin thou hast displayed.
Was it not My decree and providence that thou,
In asking pardon, shouldst the tempter disavow?”
Said Adam: “Thee I feared; most bitter shame I felt.”
God added: “It was I who gave thee shame heartfelt.”
Consideration he who shows considered is;
So he who brings the sugar, share of cake is his.
For whom, then, benefits, but practisers of good?[200]
Keep pleased thy friend. Offend him; see what ensue would. 125
One sole example study,--instance of this law,—
Compulsion and election’s difference to draw.
“There is a hand that shakes from palsy or from fear.
Another hand also thou shakest when thou’rt near.
Know: God it is creates the movement in them both;
And yet there’s no resemblance in their motions loth.
Thou’rt sorry that thou shakedst that man’s hand anon,
When thou seest him annoyed at what thou’st just now done.”
A question ’tis of judgment; judgment shrewdness is,
Until some weakness intervene to mar all this. 130
A question, now, of judgment as to corals, pearls,
Is not the same as one about the soul, you churls.
A question of the soul’s another matter quite;
The wine that feeds the soul comes not from grapes, black, white.
When any matter is a question of judgment,
‘Umer with Abū-Jahl’s in one predicament.
‘Umer gave up his judgment; rested on his soul.
’Bū-Jahl received this name through lack of self-control.[201]
In sense and reason Abū-Jahl a master was;
But as to soul, in ignorance he fell, alas! 135
Of sense and reason questions are cause and effect;
But miracles and wonders show soul is a fact.
Enlightenment of soul, whatever it may see.
By quibbles of school logic cannot silenced be.
We now return again our tale to take in hand,
Though certainly we’ve never left it out of mind.
In ignorance, our souls are in God’s prison chained.
In wisdom, by God’s help, their liberty’s regained.
In sleep, God’s lethargy it is in which we sink.
Awake, we’re in God’s hands, whatever we may think. 140
In weeping, we are clouds from which His mercy flows.
In laughter, we’re the flash with which His lightning glows.
In anger, we’re reflections of the wrath of God.
In amity, the mirrors of His favour’s nod.
What are we in this world? All tortuous and bent.
There is not one upright, straightforward, innocent.
Cæsar’s ambassador no sooner ‘Umer heard,
Than light broke on his heart; at which he stroked his beard.
All questions and all answers from his mind went quite;
All sense of right and wrong had vanished from his sight. 145
He’d found the source; what need, then, of the streams?
To gather further wisdom, pondering on the means,
He said: “‘Umer, pray tell me what’s the end and use
Of shutting up that thing of light in darkness’ house?
How can clear water be expected from black mud?
Why then is the pure soul combined with flesh and blood?”
He answered: “Most important question hast thou raised.
A sense, a spirit, by the letter paraphrased.
The free, the jocund spirit prisoner thou’st made;
As though the mind, the air, could into letter fade. 150
Thou hast done this for explanation’s sake,—[202]
Thou, who beyond the explanation place wouldst take.
How should the man in whom the explanation’s gleamed,
Not yet distinguish what’s to me so clearly beamed?
Ten thousand explanations are there, each of which
Is most momentous,--than ten thousand others, rich.
With that, thy speech, now compoundly particular,
A universal explanation were,--no bar.
Thou art a partial,--seekest explanation still;
Why set thyself, then, to deny th’ universal? 155
Unless thy speech contain some use, propound it not;
And if it have, objection quit; give what thou’st got.
Thanks are incumbent upon every mortal’s head;
Contention and sour looks are surely no one’s bread.
If to put on sour looks, of thankfulness sign be,
Then vinegar the sweetest-spoken thing we’d see.
If vinegar desire to hearts a way to find,
It oxymel becomes, with honey sweet combined.
True, verse is not best vehicle for sense abstract.
It’s like a sling; one’s never certain how ’t will act.“ 160
Th’ ambassador his senses lost with this one cup
Of wine spiritual. His mission he gave up.
O’erwhelmed with wonder at the power of God, he fell.
He came ambassador; now sovereign was, as well.
A river overflooded constitutes a lake.
Some grains, when sown in earth, a field of corn can make.
When eaten, bread assimilated is by man,
That bread inanimate takes life, and reason can.
When wood or candle is made victim unto fire,
Its substance dark becomes a source of light entire. 165
Black _stibium_, a stone, when placed in human eye,
Expands the power of vision, objects can descry.
Good luck to him who’s saved from his own fleshly self,
And has become a parcel of some living elf.
Alas for him, who, living, sits among the dead.
He’s dead himself, his life from out of him has fled.
If thou take refuge in the Qur’ān, God’s own book,
With spirit of Muhammed thou’lt soon exchange look.
The Qur’ān is the essence of all prophets right.
They were the whales who swam in ocean of God’s might. 170
If thou canst read or not, the Qur’ān take to heart,
The saints and prophets study; they were as thou art.
Read thou it carefully; read, mark, digest its tales;
Thy soul, like bird in cage, will long to break its rails.
The bird shut up, imprisoned in a little cage,
That seeks not to get out, is ignorant, not sage.
The souls who’ve freed themselves from cages of the flesh,
Are worthy fellow-travellers with prophets, fresh.
Their voices they lift up, religion to impart:
“The way of sure deliverance is here. Take heart! 175
Religion hath us saved from fleshly cages, sure.
No other way is there, salvation to secure.
You then upon yourselves will chastisements inflict,
That you may be delivered from the world’s respect.”
Respect of mortal man a heavy fetter is;
Within religion’s path the gravest bond is this.
Consider well this tale, ingenuous young friend; 179
’Twill teach thee many lessons may thy morals mend.
VII.
The Merchant and the Parrot.
A merchant there was, who a parrot did own;
Confined in a cage, wisest bird in the town.
This merchant to journeying made up his mind
To fair Hindūstān, there some rich wares to find.
From generous motives, to each of his slaves,
To male, and to female, some gift to bring craves.
He made them all tell him what best they would like;
And promised to bring it, most gentlemanlike.
He said to the parrot: “Poll! Poll! With the rest,
From Hind I must bring thee what thou mayst like best.” 5
The parrot replied: “Sure, thou’lt see parrots there,
To them pray impart how it is that I fare.
Inform them, a parrot who loves them all well,
By thee’s kept confined, close shut up in a cell.
He sends you his love, and his very best wish;
Desiring from you wise advice, parrotish.
He fears he may pine, through longing to see
His dear absent friends,--die in foreign countree.
He asks if it is altogether thing fit,
That he should be caged, while you on the trees sit. 10
If this is the way in which true friends should act;
Leave him in his cage, while you forests affect.
He wishes you’d call to your mind your lost friend,
When drinking your bumpers, ere fieldward you wend.[203]
’Tis sweet to be thought of by far-away dame,
One’s sweetheart, whose love’s set one’s heart in a flame.
While you are disporting with those you love best,
He’s eating his heart out; grief gives him no rest.
One bumper you’ll drink for the love of poor Poll,[204]
If only you wish him your love to extol. 15
Or, thinking of him who’s in slavery kept,
Your bowl’s whole contents dash to earth, as though wept.
O where is the promise, and where is the oath,
Th’ engagements sworn to him by sugarsome tooth?[205]
If absence of his came from truancy’s pranks,
You’ve set your forgetfulness ’gainst his sin’s ranks.
The ills you inflict out of spite and disdain
Are sweet to your lover, he does not complain.
Your petulance prized is beyond fairy gifts;
Your vengeance most dear is; his hope it uplifts. 20
No soul can imagine what pleasure is felt,
Or grace seen, in all the fell blows you have dealt.
Your wrath is thus sweet; how much more so your grace!
If mourning so grieve, what from feast would take place?
He weeps; but he hopes you’ll believe not his tears;
And, out of affection, not lessen his fears.
He loves your great kindness, your anger as well.
He equally dotes on those opposites fell.
The thorn escape should he, and visit the rose,
He’d warble as nightingale, moved by love’s throes. 25
Most wondrous this bird’s strangest use of his bill;
With thorns, as with roseleaves, he would his mouth fill.
Not nightingale this; fiery dragon it is;
All wrongs seem to him, through his love, purest bliss.
He loveth a rose, and himself is a rose.
He loveth himself; and seeks love for its woes.”
Just so is the soul. Its tale, just parrot’s tale.
O where is the One to whom all souls make wail?
Where is the man, feeble, who’s yet innocent?
His heart, Solomon and his whole armament. 30
When he, with tears bitter, is heard to complain,
The seven vaults of heaven re-echo the strain.
In anguish he groans; God, in mercy, him hears.
His cry is: “O Lord!” And God wipes off his tears.
Abasement in him, is by God highly prized.
His blasphemies, o’er other men’s faith are raised.[206]
Each instant, in soul, he ascends to heaven’s gate;
His mitre’s with crowns capped, of infinite state.[207]
His frame’s here on earth; his pure soul with the Lord
In heaven’s highest sphere, above man’s thought or word. 35
A heaven such as this thou contemplatest not;
Thou every moment imaginest--what?
With him “_where_” and “_nowhere_” are quite equal felt.
To angels the “_four rivers_” seem a mere belt.[208]
Break off we this theme. Let’s discuss other things.
Cease trifling. “’Tis God who knows best” sense’s rings.[209]
Let’s seek to inquire how it fares with our friends,—
The merchant, his parrot. Who is’t understands?
The former had promised, at latter’s request,
To give to the birds of far Hind his bequest. 40
So when he had reached that land, greatly renowned
In wooded retreat, flock of parrots he found.
He stopped his beast, cried out, at top of his voice,
That message his Polly had made, as his choice.
One bird of the flock, he saw, then took to quake,
Fell prone to the earth; no more breath seemed to take.
The merchant regret felt for what he had done,
Exclaiming: “Alas! The poor bird I’ve slain, lone!
That creature was surely related to Poll;
Two bodies; one soul; just as is magic doll. 45
Why did I deliver that fatal message?
I’ve killed a collateral of Poll’s lineage!”
The tongue, by itself, acts just like flint and steel.
A word from it, fire-like, we scathing can feel.
Strike not, then, so rashly, fire’s sparks from thy tongue,
In message or talk, feeble hearers among.
The night is pitch dark; strewn around, cotton beds.
Amongst beds of cotton, ’tis, sparks one most dreads.
He sins who, unmindful of dire consequence,
Lets fall spoken spark,--fires a whole world, immense. 50
One rash word may set an assembly ablaze.
Molehills into mountains, and higher, it can raise.
In basis, our souls would appear Jesus-like.
To kill, to resuscitate, words are godlike.
If lifted could be from our souls the dark veil,
Each word of each soul would with miracles trail.
Dost wish to speak always to men with sweet words?
Have patience. Impatience must not fret the cords.
’Tis patience beloved is by all men of sense.
Impatience a fault is, of children, intense. 55
Who patience exhibits shall mount to heaven’s dome.
Impatience who showeth, tastes wrath that’s to come.
A saint is not hurt, whate’er else may betide,[210]
To swallow fell poison should he once decide.
He’s whole, and he’s sound; strict diet’s his rule.
Poor students are healthy in fever’s dread school.
The Prophet has cautioned: “Brave though you may be,
Commit not mad rashness, howe’er the foe flee.”
Within thee’s a Nimrod. Approach not the fire.
Approach it thou must? To be Abr’am aspire. 60
A swimmer thou art not;--nor seaman by trade;
From headstrongness strive not the deep sea to wade.
From fire Abr’am brought forth a fresh-plucked red rose.
A diver, from sea-bottom, pearls’ store can choose.
A saint handles earth, turns it straightway to gold.
A sinner, by touch, to earth turns this;--behold.
A just man’s accepted of God, the Most High.
His deeds are the works of God’s hand, still. Eigh! Eigh!
Th’ imperfect one’s hand is aye Satan’s foul limb;
Responsible rests he, howe’er he may climb.[211] 65
To him wisdom’s self’s but a mere misguidance.
Th’ imperfect man’s science is crass ignorance.
Whatever as cause acts, as cause counted is;
A perfect man’s blasphemy’s pure faith, my quiz.[212]
Rash combatant, fight’st thou on foot ’gainst horseman!
Thy point thou’lt not carry;--as sure as thou’rt man.
So, Egypt’s magicians, in old Pharaoh’s days,
Contended ’gainst Moses; and rashly, always.
At length they owned Moses superior was;
Men honour, revere him, who most of power has. 70
They said to him, then: “Command ’s thine! See! Purely!
‘Thy rod cast down’ first.[213] This thy wish is; surely.”
He answered: “Nay, nay! First cast ye down your wands.
Produce to our sight the tricks ye’ve in your hands.”
The honour thus paid was a slur on their faith,
Removing contention from out of their path.
When they had perceived what was thus due to him,
They error acknowledged, though somewhat too dim.
The “perfect man” ’s free both to eat and to speak.[214]
If thou art “imperfect,” eat, speak not, in freak. 75
Thou art but an ear. He’s a tongue;--not like thee.
To ear was addressed God’s word: “Silent be.”[215]
A newly-born infant, still sucking the breast,
Is speechless some while. He’s all ear, at the best.
His lips to keep closed he has, for a set time;
To speak till he learns,--words to frame and to chime.
If ear he lend not, he’ll not learn common sense;
Becomes laughingstock;--folly shows, most immense.
If hearing he have not, deaf being at root,
He mute must remain; no tongue has he, to boot. 80
Since, then, we must listen, before we can speak,
Lend ear to thy teachers, to guide thee who seek.
A room should be entered, as rule, through its door.
Effects ever seek where thou seest their cause’ spoor.
The speech that has need to be heard by no ear,
The voice is of God; it’s to us ever near.
Inventor is He. From no one has He learnt.
Of all, He’s the stay; not a prop does He want.
All others require, as in speech, so in deed,
From others, instruction; they all patterns need. 85
If thou art not negligent,--hear’st what’s been said,
Adopt dervish frock; go and weep in homestead.
Himself Adam saved from all blame by his tears.
So tears run wherever repentance appears.
To weep, Adam came down to this nether world;
To sigh, moan, and groan; far from sweet Eden hurled,
From paradise shut out, from heaven driven down,
Like schoolboy in fool’s-cap, his great sin to drown.
If thou’rt seed of Adam;--if from his loins sprung;
Like him, do thou seek for God’s pardon, whilst young. 90
With burnings of heart, and with moisture of eyes,
As sun and as rain, do thou sorrow’s fruit raise.
Of all the rich solace, what knowest thou of tears?
Thou beggest still for bread, like a blind man, with leers.
Thy stomach make void of foul greed’s lust for bread.
Thy heart thou’lt find filled with deep love for Godhead.
Thy infant soul wean from the gross milk of greed,
Then teach it to join, next, in angel’s pure creed.
So long thou remainest in darkness and thrall,
A bantling of Satan thou art, out at call. 95
The morsel that brings a pure light to the soul
Is earned by endeavour; not begged with a bowl.
Should oil, upon trimming, extinguish a lamp,
Not oil may we name it; ’tis water; ’tis damp.
The honestly-earned morsel, wisdom imparts;
Gives softness to souls, and a warmness to hearts.
If thou be aware that from thy morsel spring
Heartburnings and hate, know it’s not a blest thing.
Hast wheat ever sown, and reaped barley instead?
Hast known colt of ass from a mare in birth bred? 100
A morsel, when eaten, ’s a seed; its fruit, thought.
A morsel, when swallowed, ’s a sea pearls has brought.
From good, honest morsels come, taken in mouth,
Good works, and firm strivings to shun the soul’s drought.
Reflections, though true, we’ll now bring to an end.
To merchant and parrot’s tale ear we will lend.
Our merchant his trading had quickly despatched,
Then homeward he turned; with joy housedoor unlatched.
To ev’ry male slave a rare present he brought;
For each of his handmaids some gift he had bought. 105
The parrot him questioned: “What news bringest thou me?
And whom hast thou seen? What’s been said? Tell. Let’s see.”
The merchant him answered: “I’m sorry for that.
I’d rather my hand eat, than tell it thee;--flat.
In thoughtlessness, folly, ah! why did I prate
About thy fool’s message, until ’twas too late?”
The parrot then asked: “What’s this fuss all about?
What’s caused tribulation? Let’s hear it right out.”
The merchant now said: “I told all thy sad grief
To flock of green parrots;--so like thee, their chief. 110
Of them, one, affected with thy tale of woe,
Heart-broken, a gasp gave, expired, and fell low.
I conscience-struck was for the words I had said.
But what is the use? A word breathed can’t be stayed.”
A spoken word’s arrow swift shot from a bow,
It can’t be recalled, whate’er we may do.
An arrow once shot off will never come back.
At source, inundation alone can have check.
An outlet once found, there’s no stoppage for it.
A world is then ruined, through lack of quick wit. 115
Act, consequence little dreamt of may produce.
The progeny’s far ’yond our power to reduce.
The work of one Maker ’s this universe all.
Our acts’ consequences to our accounts fall.
Jack shoots off an arrow;--directs it to Jill.
The arrow poor Jill hits;--straightway does her kill.
If only it wound her, for great length of time
It tortures. Pain’s God’s work; wherever the clime.
Should Jack, at that moment, expire from his fright,
To plague her Jill’s wound would not cease, day or night. 120
If from the effect of great pain, then, she die,
Remote cause is Jack, still, of her misery.
Account he must render for those pangs of hers.
Although they’re God’s acts, man to man them refers.
And so propagation, seed-sowing, and all;
Effects of them operate. God’s sole, the call.
A saint acquires powers, most astounding, from God.[216]
The flying bolt he can avert with a nod.
The door can be shut between cause, consequence,
On saint’s reclamation, by God’s prescience. 125
He makes said unsaid, from beginning to end.
Hence, neither does skewer burn, roast to coal trend.[217]
From every mind that has knowledge of fact,
Remembrance effaced is, though brains may be racked.
Of this, dost thou proof require, most worthy friend,
The text read: “What verse We annul, or We mend.”[218]
Again: “They my warning made you to forget.”[219]
By these is oblivion’s great power ’fore us set.
To make us remember, forget, they power have.
They’ve hearts subjugated o’er creation’s wave. 130
Whene’er dull forgetfulness blinds eye of man,
No act can he do, howe’er wide his scan.
Dost dare, thou, great saints to make laughingstock?[220]
To words of the Prophet give heed, silly block.
Earth’s lords have dominion o’er bodies of clay.
Enlightened saints rule hold o’er hearts;--their own sway.
All acts are fruits, doubtless, of experience.
Man, then, is but pupil. All’s, else, mere pretence.[221]
I’ll close now this subject; much more I might say;
Prevented I am by the rules I obey. 135
Remembrance, forgetfulness, both are of God.
Support and aid, too, must depend on His nod.
Of thoughts, God, men’s good and bad souls voids, each night,
By millions. Since this has seemed good in His sight.
By day, their hearts fill with their thoughts all, again,
Those oystershells He fills with rich pearls amain.
He knows all the thoughts that here trouble our frames.
’Tis He that gives guidance to souls in their games.
Thy talent, thy judgment, unto thee are given,
That means thou may’st have to redeem thy fallen leaven. 140
The goldsmith’s rich art’s not by weaver possessed,
By jocund vein here, there another’s distressed.
Though mind’s frame and talents endowments are, all,
They seem to a foe mere machines for his thrall.
When sleep is departed, thoughts, talents return,
One’s foe so comes back, has of war one more turn.
With dawn, all our thoughts, all our talents, awake,
As erst, good or bad; ere repose we could take.
So carrier pigeons, wherever they’ve been,
Return to their homes, quit the woodlands all green. 145
We see, thus, that all things revert to their source.
Parts ever must go shares in whole’s intercourse.
So soon as our bird heard that parrot’s sad state,
A shudder he gave, fainted, grew stiff as slate.
The merchant, on seeing this, seized with dismay,
Himself dashed to earth; wished he’d been far away.
His clothes rent in sorrow; his beard he plucked out;
And moaned, in distress wildly sobbing, throughout:
“My parrot, why, dearest, thus broken of heart?
Dead art thou, now, really? So fain to depart? 150
Poor pet! Darling bird! With thee, hours I could talk.
My sweetheart! My second self! Loved was thy walk.
Alas for poor Polly! Where’s now his sly chat?
Alas, my companion! How shall I bear that?
Had Solomon seen a green parrot like mine,
What pleasure had he felt in other birds’ line?
Dear prattler, in whose words I took such delight!
And then, thus to leave me, with naught in my sight!
Thy tongue to me dearer than gold’s wealth untold;
At sound of thy sweet voice my joy was tenfold.” 155
O tongue! Thou’rt a fire, and also a cornstack![222]
My patience, the cornstack! Hark! How its flames crack!
My soul doth, in secret, of thee complain sore;
But whate’er thou wishest, it does evermore.
O tongue: Thou’rt a treasure, beyond all earth’s price!
And yet thou’rt a plague, that’s not always too nice!
A whistle art thou, birds decoying afield.
A solace to love’s wayward, fitful, spoilt child.
To men thou’rt all darkness, and blasphemy’s bale;
To saints, guide, companion too, through this dark vale. 160
Thou’rt pitiless! Pity on me take, awhile.
Thy bow thou hast strung, on poor me to work guile.
Thou hast taken my bird; thou hast flustered my soul.
So cruel why be? Why delight take so foul?
An answer pray give; or else, deal out justice;
Or hope let me have to taste joy’s chalice.
My dawn! Thou dispellest my deep’ning darkness.
My light! Day with thee is all sunshine brightness.
Alas! That swift bird, boldly soaring, of mine,
My lowest fall plumbed, traced my lineage divine. 165
The ignorant, wooers of trouble are, all.
“I swear,” down to “misery” read, thou poor thrall.[223]
From misery free made me thy countenance.
From spume, so the clear stream of thy assistance.
Regret is a nursing of phantoms by day.
Neglect, stern realities drives not away.
A zeal for the truth is in God, there’s no doubt.
The heart, with God’s will, is constrained to burst out.
He’s zeal, Who is “other,” far, than all things else,[224]
Beyond all praise, laud, blessing, thanks, in heart’s pulse. 170
Alas! my hot tears have become briny lake,—
An offering worthy my lost idol’s sake.
My parrot! My wise bird! My starling art thou!
Interpreter, reader of thoughts, secrets, thou.
All daily events, results, just or unjust,
By Him ordained were, as I know, from the first.
The Parrot, inspired, who by voice of man spoke,
Existed ere dawn of existence first broke.
That Parrot is plainly within thyself felt;
Around thee His motto is ev’rywhere spelt. 175
Art joyful? From Him, know, all joys here do spring.
Art wronged? Thou submittest. Thou’rt under His wing.
O thou, who for body dost injure thy soul,
Thy proud flesh to pamper, dost wrong to thy whole.
I, too, am in flames. Who, then, seeks burning brand,
The trash to consume of conceit from the land?
That which is once burnt cannot blaze out again.
Select flaming brand, living fire choose, amain.
Alas! Lackaday! What has thus come to me?
My full moon in clouds why thus hidden to be? 180
I scarcely can breathe; with deep sorrow heart burns;
Male-lion-like, grief all kind condolence spurns.
He who in his senses has thus become drunk,
How fierce would he rage, if in cups he were sunk.
A lion in heat, he, despising all bounds;
No forest would hold him, nor dense jungle-grounds.
Of rhymes do I dream? ’Tis my love orders me[225]
Of love still to dream;--swain devoted to be:
“Thyself make thou happy. Rhymes leave, now, alone.
The rhyme I seek, thou art. I love thee, my own. 185
What’s rhyme, that thou turnest thy thoughts thitherward?
Mere bramble on wall, hedging round our vineyard.
I care not for words, for asseverations;
My time if I pass in these sweet delusions.
Suggestion there is, one, kept secret from men.
To thee I’ll impart. Thou keep’st secrets, like pen.
Suggestion occult, Abr’am knew not one jot.
One secret, that Gabriel as yet conceives not.
One mystery, to Jesus that never was known,
In jealousy God spake to me all alone.”[226] 190
What do we with tongue? We affirm; we deny.
I’m no affirmation; denial am I.
In impersonality, person I find.
In ungenerosity, goodness of mind.
Earth’s potentates slaves are of their own slaves’ will.
All mortals, mere corpses of dead corpses, still.
Kings, subject are here to their own subjects’ whim.
Man’s drunk with those intoxicated of him.
The hunter of birds them entraps in his toils,
Himself is then pounced on, despite of his foils. 195
A beauty makes prey of the men soft of heart.
Sweethearts fall the victims of false lover’s dart.
If lover thou see, know, a sweetheart he’s, too,
’Tis but a relation. Each one’s one of two.
If thirst seeks for water in this wide domain,
The water, on its side, the thirst courts again.